


The Stars Shine So Brightly Against The Dark Backdrop Of The Universe

by doomedPrince



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 04:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21130673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomedPrince/pseuds/doomedPrince
Summary: Alternate Universe where Steve found Bucky after the Helicarrier fall and Tony isn't as much of a jerk about it as he could be.Mostly a Bucky Recovery fic, told mainly from Bucky and Steve's point of view.





	The Stars Shine So Brightly Against The Dark Backdrop Of The Universe

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time I've ever posted a fic on A03, so I hope you like it.

I always forget how cold the tower gets at night. Stark likes to keep the default temperature at 68 °F after the sun goes down. Says he read a study once that said 68 is the perfect temperature to ward off nightmares. I will admit, it’s nice when to wake up to when I wake up sweating and shaking. But the constant cold… Well, I’m not one to complain about the cold. It barely bothers me anymore.

“Oh,” I say softly, announcing my presence more than greeting the figure in the kitchen. “Nice to know I’m not the only one up.”

Tony turns from the coffee pot he was so focused on, his eyes holding obvious exhaustion and slight mania as they meet mine. He always gets strung out like this after a mission goes wrong. I guess I can understand. Lives were lost because of us. But he seems to take it harder than the rest of us. “Uh, well, I was working on a new suit, but I kind of hit a wall. Thought coffee might help.”

“You’re always working on something,” I say, padding over to the stove.

“Yeah,” he replies, leaving an awkward silence in the air. He turns back to the coffee pot and clears his throat, wordlessly voicing his discomfort with the current subject. His work habits are a touchy thing for him. “So. How are things with Barnes?”

I fill the Iron Man kettle Tony bought me for Christmas with water and put it on the stove. “Bucky? Well, he’s, uh… Well, he’s adjusting. To all of this. It’s gonna take time, of course, but he seems to be doin’ alright,” I sigh, shaking my head a little. “I just wish I could do more to help him.”

“Well, sometimes it helps to have someone. Is he seeing anyone?” Tony asks, his tone light and casual. “Like… a therapist?” He pours himself a cup of coffee, reaching for the sugar. Since when does he care so much about Bucky? He can barely be in the same room as him.

“No.” I contemplate leaving the subject at that, but I sigh and continue. “I’ve tried to talk to him about seeing a professional, but… He just… He doesn’t want to talk to a stranger. About everything that happened to him and… Well, about all the things he’s done. He can barely talk to me about some of it.”

He nods slowly, taking a sip from his coffee before deciding that it’s still too hot. “Yeah, from what I’ve read in those files of his that’s pretty understandable. H.Y.D.R.A. did a number on him. He’s got a lot of blood on his hands.” He looks at the ground and quietly mutters, “I guess we have that in common…”

The kitchen gets quiet for a little while as he blows on his coffee and I wait for my water to boil. I don’t have anything to say to that. We all have blood on our hands, some of us more directly than others. I get where he’s coming from. But something is eating at me. I have to ask.

“You’ve read his files?”

“Of course I’ve read his files, Rogers. I’ve read every H.Y.D.R.A. file we have access to. Have you read his files?”

“Yeah. I have.” 

When I was looking for him, I read every file that even mentioned ‘The Winter Soldier’. It was painful to read, but I knew I had to read them. But when I told Bucky I read them he went pale. Then, with a less than stable voice, asked if he could read them. I pulled the physical copies of them out of the archives and they’re still exactly where I left them. I don’t think he wants to know what he did. 

I think him asking for them was a test. A test to see what he was allowed to ask for. To see where I would draw the line. But I gave them to him anyways. He has a right to know what he’s done. And what was done to him.

“Reading them almost felt like an invasion of privacy. Like I should’ve heard those things from him,” I admit to Tony, sighing loudly, not exactly thrilled about talking to Tony about this at 3 am. “Besides,” I say through a suppressed yawn, “he said they left a lot out in those files.” 

The kettle starts to whistle. I turn away from Tony to pull the kettle off the heat, flicking the stove off. 

“A lot of what?” He questions, curiosity creeping back into his tired voice. A childlike curiosity towards the most morbid and uncomfortable things.

I stare at him, shooting him a disapproving glare, answering him with a voice colder than before. “Torture, I guess. Look, Tony, why do you suddenly care about how Bucky’s doing?”

He stares back at me like I’m an idiot. Like the answer is so obvious that I should just know. Maybe I should. But it’s 3 am and I’m not too thrilled to be playing mind games with Tony this early in the morning. “I don’t trust him, Rogers. I don’t try to hide that. And someone has to know what they did to him so someone can understand what makes him tick when he goes dark side,” he says defensively, putting his coffee on the counter. It’s so loud. We just stare at each other for a minute before he looks away. 

“I do care, Steve,” his voice much softer this time. Not defensive, not upset. Just tired and understanding. “I care about him because he means the world to you. And if he means that much to you, I want to make sure he’s okay. I want to make sure you’re both okay.”

“Oh…” is all I can think to say. Tony grabs a mug with my shield on it from the cabinet and hands it to me. 

I roll my eyes and smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He laughs, walking away with his mug in hand.

And I pause, thinking to myself for a second before saying “everything,” glancing away from Tony as I do. 

I didn’t think… Well, it never crossed my mind that Tony might care that much about me.

“No problem, Capcicle. Try and get some sleep.”

“You too, Tony.”

He nods, but shuffles back towards his lab anyways. Shaking my head, I make myself some tea and sit at the bar, enjoying the silence that usually accompanies being awake this early.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, maybe leave a comment? I appreciate suggestions.


End file.
